Of Childhood Dreams and Midnight Escapades
by ohmahgl0b
Summary: "We already have one Hobbit too many, I do not need another slowing us down." Isla spent her childhood years dashing into the night, longing to extend her reach beyond the Shire. Years pass and imagination fades, but the same call still sits within her bones; and she can ignore it no longer. Taking it upon herself to create her own adventure, she finds more than she ever meant to.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters presented in this story, save for my OC; Isla (pronounced** _ **eye-la,**_ **like Island lol)**

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 _Chapter 1: A Kiss on the Yellow Door_

Isla Brandybuck had made up her mind, and she decided she was going to run away. Well, the term "run away" may be a bit extreme for her intention, but either way she was leaving. For as long as she could remember, she knew there wasn't much in the Shire that could kindle any form of spark within her, and it was only until now that things fell into place for her to finally be able to leave. Despite the special place it held in her heart, she knew she needed more than the quaint little world that was the Shire, if only for a short time.

As a child, Isla would sneak away at night. Dashing through the grass and tumbling over fences, she ventured away from home just to get a taste of any adventure she could glean into her life. Every time she left, she made sure to press a kiss to the yellow paint of the door of her home, as if she wouldn't see it again for a long while. It was a small gesture of what she believed would bring her good luck on her perilous little journeys. Each night she traveled farther and farther away, always with her favourite cousin, Bilbo Baggins, running alongside her.

Any adult privy to their midnight escapades would see but two small and mischievous children, but to Isla and Bilbo, they felt like the heroes in stories most wouldn't consider them old enough to hear. Stories of darkness and danger, telling of lands and people that sounded so extraordinary they almost didn't seem real.

Isla and Bilbo lived for these stories, and would talk late into the night of all they would do once they were old enough to leave the Shire, eager to seek out their own wondrous tales. They learned not to share this information with anyone else, however, when everyone scoffed in the face of what they considered "foolish fantasies". But Isla and Bilbo could not be deterred, and they continued on with their journeys towards the border of the Shire, the moonlight highlighting paths only they seemed to see.

They made it past Hobbiton on one night, and Isla fancied they would have reached the very edge of the Shire on another had not her parents- Gorbadoc Brandybuck and Marabella Took- caught her half-hanging out her bedroom window one evening. When she confessed to what she had been doing most nights the past month or so, they promptly banned her nighttime journeys, and set in place measures preventing her from sneaking out again. It solved to them the mystery of why she would be so tired on some mornings, and helped to set their worries to rest. They weren't awfully upset with her, but still wanted to keep her safe, and while Isla knew this she was upset nonetheless. Of course she loved them both deeply, but they could be a little protective at times, despite the dauntless families the two had come from.

To spare him from trouble, Isla had the good sense not to mention Bilbo in her confession, but without a partner in crime, he too ceased in venturing out into the moonlight. But they still held fast to their dreams of adventures; for a little while, at least. Time passed and Isla and Bilbo grew older, and eventually grew apart. Gone were the days spent running off to the woods in search of elves, or of trailing mud and twigs and fireflies home after dark. Bilbo settled nicely into Bag End, and Isla worked to hide away childhood dreams to pursue being a more respectable hobbit. Bilbo had an easier time of doing it than she did, it seemed.

Youth passed into adulthood, and while Isla was happy with her life, she knew she wasn't satisfied with it. She still held an incessant need for something else, despite how many years had passed or how hard she tried to push away the feeling. It was an itch that longed to be scratched, and Isla would be damned if she ignored it any longer.

So, with determination boiling in her brain, she planned her departure. As she was not yet wed, she still lived with her parents in their cozy hobbit-hole, and she didn't fancy telling them what she was up to. They would most certainly try to stop her and she would prefer leaving without any complications she might face from her parents. With that in mind, Isla concluded that she would simply have to sneak away during the night and leave behind a note to explain herself. She knew they wouldn't be happy to find her gone the next morning, but she wasn't planning to be gone long. She only wished to travel about as far as Bree, see a slice of the world outside the Shire, and then head back home. It would take all of about two weeks, and she would be back before they knew it.

It wasn't much of an adventure, but it was something out of the ordinary and it would be enough for her. Though some might argue this point, Isla had indeed grown wiser with age, and deep down she knew she wasn't fit for the dangers she had dreamt about as a child, no matter how much she wished she was. No, a small trip to Bree would do just fine, and it would prove to her, as well as those at home, that she could venture out past all she knew.

It took a few days for her to plan everything once she made up her mind. She wanted to make sure it was planned carefully, and spent a little while studying a map to make sure she got everything right. It would take her a few days to walk to Bree, and she would spend a few nights at the Prancing Pony once she got there. The road to Bree wasn't a treacherous one, and she was confident she would be safe on her journey, even if she was alone. Once she had her fill of the place, she would simply walk her way back to the Shire.

The hardest part was figuring what to pack. Isla had never had to pack for something like this before so it made things interesting when she was left to decide what would be needed and what would not. In the end, she settled for a few changes of clothes, a light but sturdy traveling cloak, food and water for the walk, the map, and money she had earned working a short time at the Green Dragon. She had been saving it for something of this sort and hoped it would be enough.

At the last minute, Isla also decided it may be necessary for her to carry something to defend herself with. She doubted she would really need it, but would rather have something should she cross paths with something unsavory. With that thought weighing somewhat heavily on her mind, she puzzled over what she might be comfortable using. She had little experience with knives outside of the kitchen, and would more than likely hurt herself trying to use one against something other than vegetables. No, she would prefer something that would put distance between her and danger. A thought struck her mind, and she reached under her bed to retrieve the old chest that lay there. Rifling through colourful drawings and children's books, she gave a small noise of triumph when her hand closed around the handle of her old slingshot.

Isla smiled widely at the sight of her childhood trinket. It had been a favourite gift from a favourite uncle from her mother's side- the Took side- of her family and had accompanied her every time she left the house. She used it often as a child and was proud to say she had been quite skilled with it. It had been a tad bit too big for her then, but seemed to be a better size for her now. She hoped she still retained her skill with it, but somehow she doubted it. She hadn't used it in years. Still, she was very grateful to have it and slid it carefully inside her pack. She would carry it with her tomorrow but for now she didn't want to set it down somewhere and forget about it. A bit more rifling through the chest rewarded her with a small, leather drawstring bag full small stones, perfect for shooting. She deposited that inside her bag as well.

With everything all packed and ready to go, she sat at her desk and penned down a quick letter for her parents. It wasn't anything too long, nor was it too much to the point. She simply explained what her plans were, why she was doing it, and begged them not to worry about her. It was but a small expedition, and she would be home in a mere two weeks. She also made sure to write how much she loved them, and she hoped it would be enough to soften the blow.

Finishing the letter and sliding it into an envelope, she felt a small curl of guilt settle in her stomach. She loved her parents, she truly did, and she supposed it may be a little heartless to simply up and leave them like this. Of course they would worry, no matter how much her letter asked them not to. She couldn't help but ask herself; was this the right thing to do? She dwelt on that thought for a little before clearing her head of it. She had said it herself- she would only be gone a short time. They would worry, but she would return home and everything would be fine.

Isla stood and left for the sitting room to say goodnight (and goodbye) to her beloved parents. They wouldn't be retiring for bed for a little while, but she wanted to catch a quick nap before she left and needed to make sure she spoke to them first. She had written a letter, but also wanted to say goodbye in person, even if she wasn't actually telling them she was leaving. So, trying to keep her expression neutral, she went to her father in his armchair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as best she could from his sitting position.

"Goodnight, Papa", he seemed a bit taken aback for a moment, but returned the hug anyway.

"A little early, isn't it? You don't normally go to bed for another little while." he asked, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Are you feeling alright?" he mother asked from across her father.

"Yes, just a little more tired than I usually am. I was up earlier this morning than normal." Which was the truth; she had been searching for her father's old traveling bag and bedroll, which she found tucked away towards the back of a storage room.

"Alright then. Goodnight, my girl." His round and red face smiled up at her as she straightened, and she moved to her mother next to embrace her as well.

"Goodnight, Mama." Her mother's curls tickled her nose and her eyes twinkled in the fire light when Isla pulled away, the same amber colour as her own. She said nothing, but smiled at her the way only a mother can.

She left the sitting room and shut her bedroom door behind her. Again, guilt rose within her, but it failed to overshadow her excitement for the coming journey. They would be alright, and in the end she would be alright as well. After all these years, Isla was finally going to be traveling out of the Shire, and she was going to see the outside world, no matter how small that particular slice of world may be. She settled into bed for a light sleep to rest up before the journey.

About two or so hours later, and with anticipation buzzing in her veins, Isla rose and changed her night clothes for attire more fit traveling. These consisted of an old shirt and vest left behind by an older brother, and a pair of trousers she had nicked from her father. Everything was a little baggy, but it would be much better than hiking the countryside in her long skirts. Even on her nighttime quests she had worn trousers, and she felt a little thrill at wearing the more constricting fabric around her legs once again. After making sure everything was in her bag she carried it across the room to the little circle in the wall.

Her parents had long since removed the hardware for preventing her window from opening, and she swung it open with ease. Carefully lifting her pack through and out the window, it fell to the ground outside louder than she had meant it to be. She desperately hoped it hadn't woken her parents, and when she heard no noise within the smial, she released the breath she'd been holding.

Her torso went through next, and she found it wasn't quite as easy to squeeze through the window as it had been when she was young. Adulthood had filled her out more, especially in the hips, and she was worried she wouldn't fit at all. She managed after a few moments, however, and landed in a heap beside her bag. Not one of the most graceful maneuvers she had accomplished in life, but she was out nonetheless.

Springing to her feet, Isla reached in her bag and yanked out her cloak before fastening it under her chin. Her heart pounded in her chest as she pulled the bag onto her shoulders and the hood over her head, hiding the riot of dark brown curls beneath it. There may still be people up and about and she wanted to make sure no one recognized her.

Isla padded silently to the gate, but paused when she laid her hand on it. She had almost forgotten! Turning back around, she dashed to the door and placed a quick kiss against the slightly chipped but ever vibrant yellow wood. As she pulled away, she had the strangest feeling that this time she really wouldn't see it for a long while, much longer than the two weeks she had planned for. She gazed intently at her hand against the door for a little while before she forced herself to shrug and pull it away. It was probably just because she was actually leaving this time, and her mind was making it into a bigger deal than it really was.

Isla stepped through the gate and glanced back at the smial one last time before she closed the lock behind her. Setting off down the path, a tear slipped from her eye and she a bit was taken aback at first before immediately feeling angry at herself. Her feet pounded against the path with more vigor as she fought against her emotions. This was nothing to get upset about; she wouldn't be gone long. Not at all…and yet, even as she told herself this, that same strange feeling settled over her again and somehow it didn't seem true anymore. Why did she feel like this?

Before she could continue this train thought, she passed by the gate of Bag End, and had to do a double take at what she could see through the windows. Bilbo's home seemed filled to bursting with what appeared to be fairly burly men and- by the Valar- _were they singing?_ Indeed they seemed to be, and from what she could make out of the words, it had something to do with dishes and forks, and other household, kitchen items. Isla hadn't a clue what was going on inside, but she knew her cousin couldn't be too happy about it, especially with how late at night it was. She laughed a bit, but also couldn't help but feel sorry for the state poor Bilbo must be in at the moment. Suppressing the urge investigate further, she hiked her bag higher up onto her shoulder, and set off once again.

When Isla had first conjured up her plan, she would be lying if she said she hadn't considered asking Bilbo if he might be interested in joining her, just as he had when they were children. She had never followed through with it, though. Bilbo wasn't as rambunctious as he had been as a child, and she knew he would surely decline. He was far too settled and comfortable in his home, and she didn't blame him for it.

Focusing on her surroundings, Isla realized with a jolt there was someone down the path, though she couldn't make out exactly who it was. Quickly, she made sure to pull her hood more securely onto her head, just in case it was someone she knew. As the distance lessened, however, she realized she didn't know this person at all. In fact, she had never seen him or anyone like him in the Shire in all her life. Just as the men inside Bilbo's smial, he was built heavily with what she could only guess was muscle based on the width of his chest and arms beneath the cloak he wore. He was also taller than any hobbit, though he did not tower over the way men did- or so her uncles had described.

He must be a dwarf, she thought to herself, which means that the other men inside Bilbo's home must also be dwarves. What on earth were so many dwarves doing in the Shire, and why were they all congregating at Bilbo's house? For that was surely where this man was headed.

The mysterious dwarf drew near, and Isla quickly ducked her head to hide her face. She wasn't worried about him recognizing her, it was obvious they did not know each other, but she was weary of him nonetheless. He seemed to radiate something powerful that she did not understand, and to top things off he did not appear to be in the best of moods. She thought it best to avoid contact. However, as they crossed paths, she could not help but risk a small peak at his face, and found with another little jolt that he was looking down at as well. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Isla quickly broke the contact. He did not stop, and neither did she, and both parties continued on their way, both puzzling over the other.

If she had wanted to stop at Bag End before, that was nothing compared to the curiosity that coursed through her now. Several times she considered turning back to see what in Middle Earth was happening, but she decided against it every time. She had a long way to go, and who knows how a company of fearsome dwarves would react to a random someone showing up at the door in the middle of the night. No, it was best to stay out of it and mind her own business. Besides, she wanted to be clear of Hobbiton long before the sun came up.

Isla had been walking for a long while, and when she reached the final hill that would take Hobbiton out of her sight, light just began peaking over the horizon. She cast the area one more look, then sneezed just as she set off down the hill. She searched her pockets before she realized, but it was already too late to turn back.

"Drat. I've forgotten my handkerchief."

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 **And there is chapter one finished! :D**

 **I didn't think I would get it done today but there it is (well, I guess technically it could be considered the next day since its 12:58 in the morning but whatever).**

 **Just a quick note on how this story is going to go, it will be a mix between the book and the movies, though I'm not sure which of the two it will rely more heavily on. I also don't know when the next chapter will be out as my next few days are going to be pretty packed, but I promise I'll try my darndest.**

 **Hope you all enjoyed!**

 **(Also, I may end up changing the title of this story in the future, idk. This one isn't set in stone, but it's not exactly written in sand either.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER**

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 _Chapter 2: The Road to Bree_

Isla had never walked so long or so far in her entire life. The pain of exertion burned down to the very bones of her legs, and yet she found that she could not bring herself to hate the feeling. Of course it was nowhere near comfortable, but it was simply another reminder that she was indeed out in the world. The Shire did not have the rough terrain that ran beneath her feet now, nor did it offer any sort of challenge. All rolling hills and gentle grass, it was much too simple back home. Isla relished in the feeling produced by her effort, but she also had to remind herself that it probably wouldn't last. She would grow tired of the aches and pains eventually, but for now she wanted to live in the feeling of accomplishment they gave her.

Isla supposed that she was taking everything a bit more serious than was really necessary- it was only a small trip to Bree after all. However, to her it was everything, and at times she found she could hardly contain herself. It took a great deal of self-control to keep herself from running off down the path, letting her hair and cloak fly wildly behind. Not only would she tire quickly, but Isla could only imagine the looks anyone would give her should she stumble across someone. She at least wanted to _look_ like she was dignified, and also wished to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. She was already a very small person in a world of people who towered over her - people she had yet to get a glimpse of-, and it wouldn't do well for strangers to become too intrigued.

Thoughts now turning to home, she pondered over what her parents must be feeling. Obviously they knew she was gone by now, and she didn't doubt that they were worried- what parent wouldn't be. No, she wondered if they were particularly angry with her. Aside from sneaking away at night, Isla had never been a particular reckless or troublesome child. She had enjoyed moments when they were pleased with her, and they in turn were never too harsh, even with their discovery of Isla's adventures. She could only hope they wouldn't be too upset when she returned.

The sun slipped across the sky, and before she knew it darkness had fallen around her. This would be Isla's first night staying out in the open like this, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little worried. Truth be told, she wasn't even entirely sure _where_ she should sleep, though she had a rough idea of what would work nicely. She didn't want to venture to far away from the road, but neither did she wish to remain in complete sight of it. Walking on a little farther, Isla scanned past the tree line for any sort of little clearing or area that would seem suitable to rest in.

The moon was beaming brightly in the sky by the time she settled on a little clearing tucked away in the trees, and Isla found she was fairly glad to be off her feet. They really were beginning to ache now. After lighting a small fire and setting up her meager sleeping arrangements, Isla hunkered down nicely into her borrowed sleeping roll. She felt a little worried about dropping off to sleep while being out all alone, but her eyelids slid closed almost involuntarily as soon as her head hit the soft blanket of her temporary bed. However, Isla wouldn't leave herself completely defenseless, as she made sure to keep her slingshot close at hand, just as she had throughout the day. It certainly wouldn't kill, but it may buy her some time to get away should she be attacked, but she hoped it wouldn't come to that. She wasn't sure how fearsome she would really be when half asleep.

As she drifted off, Isla was vaguely aware of a caravan passing along the road, though the notion would be lost to her by morning.

The night proved to be uneventful, and Isla rose to pack up camp. She felt well enough rested, all things considered, though she did have a small crick somewhere in her neck. Munching happily on an apple, cheese, and homemade bread, she set out early feeling very optimistic about her situation. Once her breakfast was gone, she pulled a tattered map from her bag and quickly looked everything over, wanting to double check that she was indeed on the correct road. There were two paths she could have taken, and she had purposely chosen the slightly longer route that would take her to Bree without the need for the ferry. She wasn't very fond of water, and knew she would be in trouble should she fall in. Not many hobbits knew how to swim and Isla was not one of them. Satisfied that she wasn't lost, she estimated that she should reach Bree later that night, a little earlier than she had originally anticipated. Perhaps she would be home sooner than she thought.

As she walked, Isla began to notice fresh little divots made into the road. It only took her a moment to realise that they were in fact hoof marks, though she had no memory of them being there the day before. She looked a little way back and, sure enough, they stretched along the road she had already crossed the day before. Too small to be from horses, though larger than those of donkeys, she concluded they must have been made by ponies. From the looks of things, there appeared to be quite a few of them, and she estimated there to be around 15. Isla couldn't help but wonder who would be riding ponies- for that was most certainly what they were being used for. Hobbits typically had an aversion to riding- aside from those of the Took clan-, and she imagined men would prefer to ride horses as opposed to their miniature cousins. With no one else in mind, her thoughts turned to the band of dwarves at Bag End, and she wondered hard indeed.

The day passed and Isla was drawing close to the gates of Bree, feeling very excited to finally reach it. The hoof prints had been swallowed in the mass of various other tracks already on the road so it was hard to say whether or not they continued on to Bree, though she really hoped they did. If it was the band of dwarves, and if she happened upon them in town, they might answer a few of her questions. She doubted that asking them directly would get her anywhere, so she had planned to simply observe them from distance. Perhaps that was a bit nosey of her, but it would kill her if she didn't ever find out at least a little about them. Isla had hoped to find them along the way somewhere, but alas her path had remained clear.

Just as she had estimated earlier, Isla reached the gates that night, the moon just starting up over the horizon. They were shut, and they towered overhead as she approached them. There were two doors off to the side; one the size of what would be considered normal in this part of the world, and another size perfectly for her. Isla tapped on that door, then stood back a bit and waited. It took only a few moments for the panel on the door to slide back, and a wrinkled, somewhat grumpy face peered out at her. He did not look too happy at having to crouch down to her level, though his face changed to intrigue at seeing her.

"Well, this is unexpected. Not often a hobbit lass comes through here, especially travelin' alone. I've damn well seen everythin' today." He muttered that last part more to himself. "What business d'you have in Bree?" He asked somewhat abruptly, ans she swallowed before speaking.

"I'm simply visiting, thank you." Isla hoped that would be enough for him to let her through. She wasn't sure what else she could have told him.

"Just visitin', eh? Alrigh'. Not much to go off of, but that's more than what I been told before. Should'a seen the group we had in earlier, all grumblin' beneath their beards." He let her through, and Isla was just about to ask if said group had been a company of dwarves when he disappeared through a door. No matter, though, because very soon Isla became distracted by her new surroundings.

Nothing looked particularly strange in anyway, it was only that everything was about ten times bigger than she was used to (including the people). Whole crowds of towering creatures moving about, Isla had to scamper out of the way to avoid being trampled. She gazed up in wonder, and couldn't help but feel like a mouse who had wandered into a city of giants. All the buildings towered overhead, and vaguely they reminded Isla of mountains. She couldn't even imagine what Minas Tirith must be like. She didn't let the thought intimidate her, though, and she walked on down the road in search of the Prancing Pony. She would need to get a room first, and then she would continue her exploring in the morning. There was still much she wanted to see, but for now she was eager to retire.

Isla spotted the sign hanging down the street and headed in that direction. The inn did not have a hobbit-sized door, but it didn't prove to be a problem. The larger door was perhaps a little heavy, but she pushed through just fine. It was dark inside, but not all together unpleasant. There was a fire going in the massive fireplace, and there was a steady din of conversation rolling through the room. Smoke hung heavy in the air, and Isla could catch the smell of food wafting in from the kitchens somewhere. She even spotted a few hobbits here and there, though she didn't recognize any of them. She wouldn't say it was as cozy as the Green Dragon back home, but there was something about it that she found appealing.

Isla stepped up to the counter and grasped the edge of it, standing on her tiptoes to see over the top. The innkeeper had his back to her, engaged in conversation with a dark haired man eating a carrot, and Isla cleared her throat a bit to catch his attention. When he made no indication of having heard her, she spoke up.

"Excuse me, sir?" He glanced over his shoulder before fully turning around.

"Good evening, miss. My, this is a rare sight; haven't seen a hobbit girl through my inn in an age. What can I do for you?" He seemed kindly enough, though she bristled a bit at 'girl'. Isla pushed the feeling aside.

"One room, please, and perhaps a meal?" He inclined his head a bit.

"Certainly." He turned to pull a key off a peg, then motioned for her to follow him when he stepped out from the counter.

"So what brings you to Bree? We do get hobbits from time to time on business matters and such, but I doubt you're here for such reasons." He stated that last bit as more of a question, and Isla shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. I simply wanted to go on a little trip and get away from home for a little while. See the world a bit, you know?" He nodded.

"Aye, I understand. Still, you best look after yourself. We get all sorts around here, and not always the most pleasant of folk. Why, just this morning we had a group of rather fearsome dwarves come through." Isla's head snapped up at the mention of dwarves, and she realised she had forgotten to keep an eye out for them. After missing the chance to ask the gatekeeper, she had been so caught up in taking everything in, as well as avoiding being bowled over by both people and horses alike, that the dwarves had completely slipped her mind.

"Did they say who they were, or what they were doing?" She asked somewhat urgently. He gave her a curious look before shaking his head.

"No, they didn't say much, mostly let the wizard do the talking," _Wizard? "_ Though, there was one dwarf who seemed like he was something of a leader, and he spoke for the group on a few occasions. I believe he mentioned that they were headed for the misty mountains. Made sure to stock up on a lot of supplies so I don't doubt that was where they were going." Isla was a little disappointed at the lack of information, but she supposed it would have to be enough to satisfy her curiosity. It did raise the question of why they were traveling with a wizard, but she would simply have to let it go.

"Now that I think about it, I believe they had a hobbit traveling with them as well." They were at the foot of the stairs and she stopped in her tracks. Now _that_ got Isla's attention.

"A hobbit?" She asked. Surely it couldn't be who she was thinking of.

"Aye, yes there was. I remember he was standing at the back of the group a bit, looking as if he wanted to disappear. Got the feeling he was a bit of an outcast in the group, and certainly didn't look the type to be traveling with a crowd of ruffian dwarves." That did sound a lot like Bilbo, but it couldn't be, could it?

"What did he look like?" If it _was_ him, then what?

"Well, let's see. Messy, reddish-brown hair, and standing about yea high?" He held a hand up around his waist, "What else.." That wasn't much to go off of; she needed more information than that.

"You didn't happen to catch his name did you?" It was a shot in the dark, but the innkeeper's face face lit up.

"Aye, now you mention it, I did! I don't remember it exactly what it was, but I believe it started with a 'B'," Isla's heart lurched in her chest, and the innkeeper was muttering mostly to himself as he tried to remember, "Was it Bumbo? Bil-?"

"Bilbo?" She suggested tentatively.

"Aye, that's the one; Bilbo!" she gazed up at him, eyes wide, "Heard the wizard calling out for him when they were leaving." Isla paused.

Well, that settled it then; for some reason unknown to her, Bilbo was traveling cross country to the misty mountains in the company of a strange wizard and a crowd of warrior-dwarves. But the question was _why?_ What in middle Earth was going on?

"Miss?" Isla hadn't realised the innkeeper was still talking to her.

"Er, sorry, yes?"

"I was just asking if you know the hobbit." Curiosity burned in his eyes, but she felt it a mere candle in comparison to her own.

"Yes, I do." She replied, "In fact he is my cousin." The innkeeper's eyebrows rose.

"Your cousin, eh? And I gather you have no idea what he is up to, then?" Isla shook her head.

"No, I'm afraid I don't." Though she really wished she did. This was very, very unlike the hobbit Bilbo had grown to be. She could see him doing this as a child, but that simply wasn't who Bilbo was anymore. Isla hadn't had a lot contact with Bilbo over the years, but she knew that he had become much more settled as an adult. He was a few years older than her, and as such matured a lot quicker than she did. From what she had been told, he preferred the comforts of home over venturing out into the wilderness on an unknown quest. She could honestly say that it was probably one of the last things he would ever want to do. So that begged the question; what had changed?

The innkeeper looked as if he was debating something in his head before he spoke again, "If you hurried you might be able to catch up with them," Isla's ears perked up and her heart quickened, "They came in this morning, but they were here for most of the day stocking up and preparing for the road. They only left about a few hours ago, and can't have moved _too_ far with how weighed down their ponies were. I could point you in the direction they were headed if you'd like?"

Isla's heart was positively thudding now. What should she do? Should she go after them? What would she even do if she did? Seeking them out wouldn't really serve a purpose and she could see no reason why she should other than to satisfy a question born of curiosity. It was definitely a bad idea, and she knew that she should just let it go and stick with her original idea of a simple expedition to Bree. That would be the most logical thing to do. And yet, even as all these thoughts were running around in her head, it seemed that none of them really mattered- Isla knew _exactly_ what she was going to do. She had already thrown caution to the wind when she had decided to come to Bree in the first place, what harm was there in going a little further? She hadn't yet responded to the innkeeper's question, and he was looking at her expectantly. Isla made up her mind.

"Please sir, if you could that would be wonderful. Also, I don't think I'll be needing that room anymore."

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 **No Thorin yet, but I promise he'll be making an appearance in the next chapter, along with the rest of the company :D**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**

 **Special thanks to Just a Little Wish for the first review on this story.**

* * *

 _Chapter 3: A Shot in the Dark_

If Isla was going to continue on, she knew she would have to stock up on supplies and catch a bit of rest before she headed out again. Admittedly, she would have preferred to spend the night in Bree and then travel on the next morning, but she was too worried about how much longer it would take for her to catch up with them if she did. No, it was best to find them as soon as possible before they ventured too far away from Bree. She wasn't going with them the entire way of their journey-as grand as that would be-, and she would prefer it if she didn't have to make the trip longer than needed.

If Isla were being honest with herself, she still didn't fully understand why she was doing this in the first place. Aside from the ever present and somewhat nosey desire to find out just what was going on with Bilbo, there really was no reason for her to go after them. Well, perhaps there was one reason.

Ever since the innkeeper had offered to point her in the dwarves' direction, Isla had had the strangest feeling that if she didn't pursue the curious company, she would regret it for the rest of her life. She couldn't explain it at all, nor did she understand it herself, but she wasn't about to simply ignore it. Isla had never wanted to be the person to look back on her life once old age found her, lamenting on all she had never done simply because she was too afraid.

So just before leaving Bree, Isla paid for the supplies she needed, and after a quick meal and rest at the Prancing Pony, she set out on the road again. Despite having offered to show her where the dwarves had gone, the innkeeper heavily advised against her chasing after them. Isla considered this, but in the end she could not be swayed, and waved goodbye to the kindly man from the gates. She had made up her mind and would stick with her newly formed plan, no matter how foolhardy it may be. She only hoped she wouldn't come to regret it later.

Isla had expected to feel drained after what had proven to be a very long day, but it seemed her short respite at the inn had done her some good. She was also fortunate to be traveling by the light of a very bright moon, and it wasn't difficult for her to find what she was almost positive were the ponies' tracks. It seemed that luck was on her side, and she burned with optimism. If the dwarves had camped out somewhere to rest, that would make Isla's job much easier, and she dearly hoped that they had. It would be much more difficult for her to catch up to them if they were to travel through the night. Hopefully her good fortune would hold out.

She was more than a little concerned about being out in the open once again, and especially now that she was on a road less traveled. As she walked, she made sure to keep her slingshot ready in hand, her speed brisk, and her eyes on the tree line when she was not watching the tracks at her feet. Isla knew if she kept the pace, it shouldn't take her too long to find them. If all went well, she would find them before morning, speak to Bilbo, and then part ways after having fully and finally satiated her curiosity. Her face fell a little at the thought.

Isla would be lying if she said she hadn't entertained thoughts of going on with them, wherever it was that they were headed. Now _that_ would be a grand adventure. An old childhood spark had ignited somewhere in her chest, and at times she found herself unconsciously planning to travel with them, preparing for whatever might be in store for her. It only took a moment for Isla to realise just what thoughts she was thinking before quickly shutting them down. It would not do well for her to assume they would let another hobbit into their company, especially one that was a woman. She did not know these people or their purpose, not to mention the fact that she had nothing to offer them that would really be of any service. Chances were she'd end up being more of a burden than anything else.

It was best not to get her hopes up. She would go simply to see Bilbo and that would be the end of it. Plain and simple, and it was really more than she had asked for when she had left the Shire in the first place. Besides, she still had to come up with an excuse as to why she was there, without having to worry about pleading to let her travel with them. Isla had been walking for some time, and it shouldn't take her too much longer before she finally stumbled upon them. She doubted they would be very enthusiastic about her showing up out of the blue, but it would be even worse if she didn't offer them a reason why she did.

Isla thought hard for a long while, and she decided that she simply have to tell them that she was worried that Bilbo had been kidnapped. It wasn't an entire lie; the notion had passed her mind at some point. Perhaps they wouldn't fully believe her, but it was the best she could come up with. It was much better than telling them she had a simple "gut feeling" anyway, and it would just have to do. Now the only question was how she should approach them.

* * *

The sky crawled lazily overhead, and still Isla had not seen any sign of the dwarves. Walking long throughout the night had taken its toll on her, and by now her steps were sluggish and her eyelids felt heavy. She was starting to worry that she had been trailing the wrong hoof prints the entire time, despite having constantly checked to make sure they were still there and unchanged. If not, surely she should have reached them by now? And if they had been the wrong ones; what then?

Isla was just beginning to worry about her next plan of action when she noticed a light shining faintly ahead in the trees. Her heart jumped suddenly into her throat and all traces of fatigue disappeared. Wanting to make sure the long day wasn't simply playing tricks on her, she rubbed her eyes quickly and, sure enough, the light was still there. She walked towards it a bit before crouching down a little and sneaking ahead. She needed to make sure it was them, but also didn't want to go crashing into their campsite if it was.

Silently, or as quiet as she could, Isla inched towards the light. When she was close enough to make out distinct shapes and faces in the firelight, she was greeted by the sight of what indeed was a group of dwarves. They were strewn haphazardly around the clearing, huddled down into sleeping rolls and snoring quiet loudly. She didn't know how they could all sleep with such a racket. There were a few that were propped against trees, but they too were sleeping. Shouldn't someone be keeping watch?

On the other side of the clearing, leaning against an outcropping of rock, Isla spied an old man who had to have been the wizard. He was taller than anyone else there, and his pointed hat was pulled low over his eyes, mumbling quietly in his sleep. He seemed a little familiar, like someone had described him to her at some point, but she didn't dwell long on the thought. She still needed to find her cousin.

Isla scanned every bundle, eyes passing over muscled figures and bearded faces, and she had to stifle a little cry when she spotted an unruly mop of reddish hair peeking out from a bed roll smaller than the others. His back was to her, but she would recognize that hair anywhere, and she couldn't keep the smile off her face at the sight of it. Finally, she had found Bilbo.

It seemed the only problem now was how to approach the situation. First, she did a quick head count and concluded that there were a total of twelve dwarves. She wasn't particularly worried about the wizard or Bilbo, but she couldn't be certain that the dwarves wouldn't be hostile if she approached them wrong, especially while they were sleeping. After all, from stories she'd heard that dwarves were known to be somewhat confrontational, as well as rather suspicious of strangers. If that was the case; what should she do?

Isla didn't have long to wonder because a blade had been laid against the side of her neck, and before she even knew what she was doing, she took off running in the opposite direction.

* * *

Thorin shouted and ran after whoever had been hiding in the bushes. As much as he would have liked to simply chase them off and be done with it, letting them go was too big of a risk. Mahal knew they had plenty of enemies, and he didn't doubt that someone would send out spies to gather information about his and the company's quest to Erebor. He was already on edge enough as it is with having to worry about his men and one useless hobbit; he did not need to add a sneak to the mix.

Unfortunately catching them was not as easy as Thorin had thought it would be. Whoever this unknown villain was, they were much smaller than he and therefore much faster. It didn't help that they had abandoned their bag in their haste, and he was still wearing much of his armor. He would not be stopped, however, and pushed harder to catch up. He would be damned before he let this fox slip away. Behind him, he was happy to note that his shout had roused the rest of the company, and they would be on guard should there be anyone else lurking around.

Thorin had been on watch when he had first thought he heard something moving about in the trees. It may have only been some woodland creature passing by, but he needed to be sure that they were all safe, so he had risen to scout the area. After thoroughly checking the perimeter and finding nothing, he had gone back only to find a small, hooded creature crouched behind a cluster of shrubs; apparently assessing Thorin's sleeping companions. He had crept up behind them easily enough, but was completely taken off guard with how fast they had turned tail and fled. It was of no matter however; he would not be surprised by them again.

Thorin had just begun gaining on them when they stopped and turned around quite suddenly. They appeared to be taking aim. Thorin swore and went to duck for cover, but something small and solid hit him in the forehead, and the world was lost to him.

Isla lowered the slingshot shakily, trying hard to catch her breath. It had been a reckless thing to try to shoot them, but she knew they were getting closer and she didn't know what else to do. She was just happy it had paid off and hadn't gotten her killed. Isla honestly hadn't expected to hit whoever had been chasing her on the first shot, especially in the dark. It may have been nothing more than a fluke, but she couldn't help the small feeling of pride that swelled in her stomach at hitting her target. However, it quickly died when she realised how hasty her actions had been, and how grave a mistake she may have just made.

After all, how was she to know who had actually been chasing her? Isla hadn't meant to bolt the way she did, but she hadn't expected a sword to appear from behind her, completely out of nowhere. She had never been threatened with a blade before, and her first instinct at feeling the cold metal against her neck was to run in the opposite direction.

With a feeling of slight apprehension, Isla approached the dark shape sprawled on the ground. She dearly hoped that it hadn't been any of the dwarves, but the more she thought about it the more she realised that was very likely. When she had first come upon the camp, she noticed there wasn't anyone keeping watch. Perhaps that was only because they out looking for a certain intruder.

Isla came to her pursuer, and with a rush of relief she heard his even breath. _At least I haven't killed him,_ she thought blessedly to herself. As she studied him further, she took note of the dark hair and the thick cloak, realising with a jolt that they looked familiar. _Very_ familiar. Up ahead in the trees, heavy feet moved through the underbrush, but Isla paid them no heed as she fought to remember where she had seen this dwarf before. It couldn't have been too long ago, and she knew it had been somewhere in the Shire. Somewhere in the Sh- oh.

 _Oh._

He was the dwarf she had passed on the road outside Bag-End, the one she had been afraid to look at. By the Valar, _she had shot him,_ and now he was unconscious at her feet. Isla's hands went into her hair under the hood, and she began pacing back and forth. What had she done?! And perhaps more importantly; _what was she going to do now?_ The footsteps were getting closer, how was she to explain that she had just shot one of their own?

"Thorin!" A commanding voice cut through the night air, and Isla started at the name. Was that the name of the dwarf at her feet? The voice was close, and Isla thought it better to announce herself now rather than have them find her. Hopefully that might help to soften the blow of her mistake.

"Um... He's here!" Her voice shook a bit and she wanted to kick herself. All movement in the trees stopped for a moment until suddenly everyone seemed to be rushing in her direction. The first to come into her sight was a very tall dwarf with a bald, tattooed head, wielding a large axe and looking very unhappy with the sight before him. He looked back and forth between her and his comrade while everyone else appeared and gathered around them.

Eru help her, _all_ the dwarves were there, and none of them looked happy. Isla took a deep breath before quickly throwing down her slingshot and putting her hands up. She had forgotten she was still holding it, and she didn't want to look like any more of a threat than they probably already thought she was.

She scanned the faces for sign of Bilbo or even the wizard, but apparently they had stayed behind because she didn't catch sight of them anywhere. She was alone, and she really needed to think of an explanation for what had just happened. Isla took another deep breath and slowly pulled the hood from her head, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. They all looked surprised; they mustn't have realised she was a woman. She put her hands up again.

"I know how this looks, but I _promise_ you this is all a misunderstanding.

* * *

Bilbo scanned the trees nervously. Everyone had headed out after being woken by a single shout from Thorin as he had disappeared into the trees. It had already been about half an hour and yet they still hadn't made it back. Bilbo had no idea what was going on and that made him more than a little uneasy. It was the first time they had all faced any sort of threat since the start of their journey, and Bilbo was feeling very anxious indeed. Who knows how many more nights like this they would face.

"My dear Bilbo, there's no need to look so worried." Said Gandalf, words a bit muffled by the pipe between his teeth.

Bilbo sighed, and then cast a sidelong glance at Gandalf. At least he had stayed behind with him, and no doubt Bilbo would be worrying even more if the wizard had gone with everyone else. He took note of Gandalf's oddly serene expression, and he decided not to fret too much. If Gandalf wasn't concerned then there should be no reason for him to be.

They were hardly a few days into the quest and already Bilbo was feeling harried. Aside from the overall strain of the journey- especially from being constantly jostled by his pony- it was much more difficult to be a part of the company than he thought it would be. He was somewhat of an outsider among the dwarves, and on occasions they tended to treat him like one. Bilbo was sure they weren't meaning to do so- for the most part- it was just difficult for him to be apart of things he didn't understand. They were from completely different cultures and lifestyles, after all.

Sure, they were civil and polite to him, and of course he had Gandalf's companionship, but at times he couldn't help feeling rather alone among them. They had all known each other for lifetimes, and Bilbo had barely known them for a few days. He knew the feeling would wear off eventually, but who knows how long that would actually take. Out of nowhere, his thoughts turned to a certain favourite, childhood cousin, and not for the first time Bilbo was sorry for having lost contact with Isla over the years. He almost wished she were there, as dangerous as their journey was. Having a sort of partner would have made things much easier, but he didn't dwell long on the thought.

Approaching voices urged Bilbo and Gandalf to their feet. Obviously it was the dwarves- Bilbo could at least recognize their voices at this point- and he was wondering what news they brought or if any had been hurt. Balin strode first into the firelight, uninjured and with an odd gleam in his eye. He caught Bilbo's gaze, gave him a look Bilbo didn't understand, and then turned back to the other approaching dwarves. It didn't take long until most were back in camp, and it didn't escape Bilbo's notice that Thorin still hadn't showed. As king, he was usually the one at the head of the troop, and it was abnormal for him not to be leading.

"Is everything alright?" Bilbo asked nervously. He didn't have long to wonder, however, when he saw the last of the dwarves carry in a lax Thorin by the limbs. Bilbo started, and if he weren't so distracted he would have noticed the hooded figure sliding in behind everyone else. He was just about to ask when Balin spoke.

"He's fine, laddie, just unconscious." Bilbo was relieved to hear it, despite the dwarf's obvious dislike of him, "Had a bit of a run in with someone he didn't expect, and no doubt he'll be angry once he wakes, but he's not the one you should be worried about just now."

Bilbo gave him an odd look before studying the company. He saw that they were all looking in the same direction, and Bilbo followed their gazes to what was a very familiar face. His breath stuttered in his throat, and his cousin gave him a little shrug and a small smile.

"Isla?!"

* * *

 **I'm not gonna lie, that chapter was a bit of a challenge. But at least we see our first point of view changes, so there's that.**

 **It took me longer to get this chapter out than I had wanted to, but my family was busy with doing stuff for the fourth of July, so sorry for that. Originally it was much, much longer, but I decided to split it in two so that'll be chapter 4 once it's done. It shouldn't take too long, it's already about halfway finished and I don't have anything going on for the next few days.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER**

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 _Chapter 4: One Hobbit Too Many_

Thorin woke feeling confused, and very, very angry. He was on his back, and apparently he had been brought back to the camp as he was surrounded by familiar voices and the warmth of the fire. He felt relieved that all seemed well, but ire surged within him again soon enough. Rising to a sitting position, he brought a hand to his forehead and tried to rub away what he knew were the beginnings of a headache. All conversation around him ceased, and he looked to his companions, glaring.

"What happened?" He asked gruffly, but no one answered him. They all glanced around at each other and he got the distinct feeling that something was going on that they knew he wouldn't like. The wizard in particular had a mischievous gleam to his eye as he sat puffing happily on his pipe. Thorin tried to remember what had happened prior to him losing consciousness, or even how he had lost consciousness to begin with, but all he could recall was a sharp pain in the forehead. Still no one had answered and he looked at them expectantly. What was going on?

Someone sighed resignedly behind him, but to Thorin it sounded strange. Too light- almost feminine. It was only a second later that they spoke and he discovered why.

"I- um, owe you an apology, Master Oakenshield." Thorin had not been expecting such a soft voice, and he whipped around to whoever had spoken. He drew a blank at the sight.

 _What in the name of Mahal was a woman doing here?_

She was sitting next to the hobbit on a log a little away from the others, and he soon realised that she herself was a hobbit. She had the same wild hair, pointed ears, and soft features of the Shire-folk. Questions rose fast within his mind the longer he gaped at her. Where had she come from, and why did she look so familiar?

His mind cleared a little and Thorin remembered what had happened before now. His hands clenched. He couldn't believe such a slip of a girl had succeeded in bringing him down. He would have been impressed if he weren't so angry, though he wasn't sure who he was more upset with; the Halfling for incapacitating him, or himself for allowing it to happen. Thorin had been careless, he knew now. He should have woken someone to go search the area with him, and he was just lucky that the "threat" hadn't been an actual threat at all.

Thorin rose steadily enough to his feet and turned to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. He planted himself firmly in the center of camp and allowed a heavy scowl to spread over his face. He knew he must look imposing, especially to one so small, but it didn't exactly have the effect he had expected. She swallowed nervously, but eventually straightened her shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. Thorin knew she must be afraid and he had to commend her silently on her resolve; there weren't many who could keep as calm as she when receiving the look he was giving her now. But still, it wasn't enough to quell the disapproval that was already settling around his stomach like a vice.

"It was an accident, really. I had no idea who was chasing me, and- and I panicked a bit." She began, words tumbling out like a river, "And I'm not trying to make excuses, I just wanted to say that I am very, _very_ sorry, and if I had known who it was I never would have-"

"That's enough." Thorin interrupted, his tone firm, "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Her mouth shut like a trap, and she took a moment to steady her nerves before beginning again.

"My name is Isla Brandybuck," She stated softly, her head inclined a little, "I am a close relative of Mr. Bilbo; his cousin, in fact." That surprised Thorin a little, but it solved the mystery of why the two already looked so friendly. They were sitting close together, looking as thick as thieves.

"Why are you here?" Thorin asked again. He had also wanted to question as to where he had seen her before, but it wasn't important and he would rather try to figure it out himself. She glanced at Bilbo out of the corner of her eye before looking back at Thorin.

"Well to start from the beginning, I was passing Bilbo's smial on my way to Bree a few days ago when I noticed there seemed to be a lot of.. activity going on at Bag-End. Through the windows I could see that it was a party of dwarves, but that was all. I wanted to stop and see if everything was alright but thought it best not to interfere, and so I continued on. I even passed you along the road on my way." She added as an afterthought and now Thorin remembered her.

He had seen her just before he had reached the burglar's hobbit-hole, and until tonight he had actually forgotten the entire encounter. He recalled being mildly intrigued by her as it was the first time he had ever seen a hobbit-girl, and had caught a glimpse of her face beneath the hood. The meeting hadn't been important enough to remember amidst the urgency of their journey and it had slipped from his mind until now.

"Wait, why were you going to Bree?" Bilbo asked his cousin, interrupting Thorin's interlude of thought.

"Just to.. get away for a little bit. It isn't really important, I'll explain later." She looked back to Thorin, "When I reached Bree, everyone kept talking of a group of dwarves that had been through. You must have passed me on the road sometime during the night while I was resting, and I had just missed you in Bree. At the Prancing Pony, the innkeeper mentioned that a hobbit had been seen as well, and I figured it must have been Bilbo. He pointed me in your direction and I followed your tracks. I've been walking all night to find you, actually." No wonder she looked so exhausted. Thorin was vaguely impressed at her tenacity but he couldn't say that he was happy that she was here, especially with the expression on the wizard's face. He looked like he was thinking hard over something, and Thorin was certain he wouldn't like whatever it was.

"I saw your fire through the trees, and I needed to be sure it was you first so I had to spy a little bit." Her face turned apologetic, "I-I didn't mean to sneak but I didn't want to startle anyone, and I wasn't even sure how I was going to approach you all in the first place."

"That still doesn't answer the question of why you're _here._ Why was it so important that you find us?" Thorin questioned, and the Hobbit's face turned red. She twisted her hands in her lap.

"I- Well, I thought that Bilbo might have been.. kidnapped."

Behind him someone snickered and the Halfling ducked her head.

"Why would we kidnap a hobbit?" Kili spoke up from the back, and the girl shrugged a bit. Somehow, Thorin knew there was more to it than just concern for her cousin, but he held his tongue. If there was more he would find out eventually, though he doubted it was too important.

"So if you haven't been kidnapped, what are you doing here?" She asked Bilbo, and the burglar's face went blank for a moment. He shuddered a little then opened his mouth to answer, but Thorin cut him off before he could say anything.

"That is not a question for Mr. Baggins to answer. Our quest is our own, and I will not have it shared with outsiders so lightly. It is bad enough that we should have one hobbit privy to this information." Her brow furrowed at his harsh words, but her face showed that she understood.

"Now," He took a deep breath, "seeing as you're here, we must figure out what to do with you." Her head lifted and Thorin swore he could see a sort of guarded hope behind her eyes. He realised then; _she was hoping to come with them_. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Obviously we can't send you away now, but at first light we will continue on and you will return to Bree. I trust you will be able to find your way back?" Her face fell a little, but she dropped her head and nodded anyway.

"Yes. Yes, of course." She answered quietly.

"Good. We will see to it that you are supplied and sent safely on your way. "

Thorin could see she was disappointed but it did not matter to him; he knew what was necessary and what was not. A quest such as theirs was no place for a woman, and she would only end up either hurt or killed. He would not have her blood on his hands or her life on his conscience.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gandalf rise to his feet and lean on his staff. Thorin braced himself for whatever the wizard was about to say, he knew it wasn't going to be something he would like.

"Thorin, I believe it would be in our best interests if Miss Brandybuck came with us." He turned and glared at Gandalf. Surely he can't be serious? "In fact, I had been intending to recruit a second hobbit to our cause while we were in the Shire but neither the timing nor the individual had seemed right, so I abandoned the pursuit. Now it seems that fate has deemed it necessary to send us one regardless, and I believe it would be unwise to send Miss Brandybuck away." Thorin said nothing and the wizard must have taken it as an invitation to proceed.

"We do have a burglar," Gandalf continued, " But you said yourself that you cannot guarantee his safety. I do not mean to worry you, my dear Bilbo," the Halfling was looking rather pale, "but should something happen to our burglar along the way, what would we do? We would be left without the one strategy we have against Smaug, and everything would have been for nothing. Unless, that is, we were to bring another hobbit with us." Thorin's face was stormy, and he glanced over at the girl. She looked confused but intrigued, and that made him all the more angry.

What the wizard was saying made sense to him but he did not like it, and he most certainly would not go through with it. He turned back to Gandalf.

"We already have one hobbit too many, I do not need another one slowing us down." The wizard was about to counter but Thorin rode over him. "The wilds are no place for those who cannot fight or fend for themselves, and I will not endanger my men anymore by adding another burden to the company." The two hobbits looked at each other out of the corner of his eye. "One Halfling will be enough."

"Now, Thorin you are being ridiculous. Miss Brandybuck has already proven herself enough by making it here on her own, and I believe you underestimate Bilbo far more than he deserves, but that is beside the point. You must trust me on this, Thorin, or I believe you will come to regret it." Gandalf's face was grave, but Thorin would not relent. Was he not the leader of this company? Was it not his say in the end? He was just about to inform Gandalf of this when Balin spoke up.

"I think we should trust him on this, laddie." Thorin almost snapped at him but he stopped himself. It was different when it was advice coming from one of his own, and he was forced to stop and think. Balin had always been a voice of reason in his life and Thorin took his counsel close to heart. His guidance had never led him wrong in the past, and he would listen to whatever Balin had to say.

"Gandalf's right; if something did happen to Master Baggins all this would be for naught. Of course we are not anticipating Master Baggins' death, nor are we hoping for it." He cast a wry smile to the Burglar who looked none too happy. All the dwarves laughed, "But we all know it is a possibility." He rose and came to stand before Thorin.

"One more hobbit will not be so large a problem, and I would rather risk the extra 'burden' than the entire quest for Erebor." There were murmurs of assent throughout the crowd. Thorin looked away and thought hard for a short while. Eventually he pinched the bridge of his nose again and heaved a great sigh. Curse it all, he had no choice and he knew it. Gandalf must have sensed his defeat.

"Good. Now that that's all sorted-" Thorin cut him off.

"Wait. What does the Hobbit have to say for herself?" All eyes turned to Isla Brandybuck, and she looked startled at suddenly being the centre of attention again. She seemed to deliberate for a moment, but in the end she gave a firm nod of her head. The elation in her eyes didn't escape Thorin's notice.

"I will help however I can." She answered. Thorin had hoped she would decline but deep down he knew she wouldn't. He had barely known her for 10 minutes and already he could sense an indomitable spirit about her. Hopefully it would be enough in the end.

"Very well, Miss Brandybuck. Balin, get the contract- have her sign her name under Bilbo's." He turned back to the newest member of the company, "I suggest you prepare yourself to face a dragon, burglar." Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

"What?"

* * *

When all had been fully and finally explained to Isla, she sat staring into the fire for a little while. This proved to be somewhat of a bad idea as they were a very blatant reminder of what was lying ahead. Was her future destined to be engulfed in flames? After all, how many could say they had faced a dragon and lived to tell the tale? That is, if Isla even faced the dragon at all.

She couldn't say she was very happy about being a sort of insurance to the company, but Isla supposed her situation was better than that of Bilbo's. At least it wasn't her life that required a back up. She truly felt sorry for him. He did not blame her for the situation though, but Bilbo never was one to hold grudges. If anything, he seemed very relieved to have her there as his companion, and she in turn felt the same. They were both more or less facing the same danger, and come what may they would face it together.

Isla would be lying if she said she felt completely up to the task ahead of her. She tried to steel herself, but how does one prepare to confront a dragon and everything else in between? Isla had never had to ready herself for something like this as she had never done something so radical. Why, just yesterday she was proud of herself for making a simply trip to Bree, but that seemed like a stroll in the garden when compared to her current situation. Even if she didn't face the dragon in the end, everyone had made it clear that the road there would not be an easy one, treacherous as it could she even begin to hope to accomplish this?

But then again, isn't this what she had always dreamed about as a child? Hadn't she always wanted to go on such an adventure? _Hadn't she been looking for adventure when she left the Shire?_ From the beginning Isla had wanted to travel with the dwarf company, and now she was getting her wish. Sure, she hadn't expected the dragon to be part of the equation, but she had time to fully prepare along the way. She should make the most of this opportunity.

Isla had heard of the Lonely Mountain in legends and stories as a child, but never had she ever dreamed that she would get to see it one day. How could she even consider passing this up? She had made it this far, hadn't she? For her first few days out of the Shire, Isla hadn't done too badly for herself. She had made it to Bree, she had found the dwarves; and she had done it all on her own. If she could do that, surely she could do this?

With determination burning in her blood, she took the contract that was given to her and scribbled her name under the curly script that was Bilbo's. Isla thought it odd to be performing such a formal task given that their situation was anything but orderly, but she signed it without question. In fact, in her haste she neglected to actually read the contract. Hopefully the information inside wasn't too important.

With all the business concluded, everyone had been ordered to go back to sleep. Dawn was only about two hours away, and Isla didn't need to be told twice. She had spent the entire day walking and wanted nothing more than to fall into oblivion. She knew the next day was going to be rough, but it would be much worse if she didn't get all the rest she could. Isla followed Bilbo to where his sleeping roll was and settled herself not far. She wanted very much to speak with him about, well, everything, but it would have to wait until morning. Thankfully she did not of dream flames.

Two hours later, Isla was roused by a shaky hand on her shoulder.

"Isla." It was Bilbo, "We're packing up now." Isla nodded and sat up, lifting a hand to pull her hair away from her face. It was a complete mess, and she opted to pull it into a ribbon at the base of her neck. Perhaps it still looked a little wild, but it was contained to a degree and would just have to do. She rose to her feet and pressed her fingers to her eyelids.

Isla didn't feel anywhere near as rested as she would have liked, but it could not be helped. They were heading out now, and the last thing she wanted to do was hold everyone up. Thorin Oakenshield had made it clear that he thought of as her little more than a burden, and Isla was beyond determined to prove him wrong. They had gotten off to a really bad start, but she wasn't going to allow that to determine her future with him or any of the other dwarves.

Pushing past her fatigue, Isla gathered her belongings and made sure she was all set for when they headed out. It didn't take long, and once she finished she cast her eyes around the camp to see if there was anything she could do to help anyone else. Everything was a flurry of activity, but so far everyone looked to be getting on okay. Standing there amidst the hustle, Isla was struck with the uncomfortable feeling of uselessness. Across the camp she caught Thorin Oakenshield's eye. He looked at her as if this is exactly what he had been expecting; for her to simply stand around. She bristled a little under his gaze.

Isla didn't particularly dislike the leader of the dwarves, but after his attitude towards her she was cautious of him. She knew he had every right to feel unenthusiastic towards her after her mistake, but he was cold in a way that took her a little off guard. Even with her apology he remained rather gruff, and she worried this countenance would remain for the rest of the journey. With a little observation, she noted that he tended to treat Bilbo in the same manner, though granted not to such degree as Isla. He wasn't happy about the hobbits' inclusion in the quest (especially her's), and he didn't exactly try hide it.

But she wasn't going to let it bother her, nor would she allow it to hinder her. Isla didn't need Thorin to like her, but she hoped to one day earn his respect. She just had to show him she was worthy of it.

Isla lifted her chin a little and marched off in the opposite direction of him. She would find some way to be helpful if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

 **I had always thought that it was strange to have almost your whole quest depend on one hobbit when that hobbit could quite possibly die along the way. Maybe I'm wrong but I would have brought a backup just in case, you know? That's also kind of where the inspiration for this fic came from.**

 **Hopefully Thorin seems like he's in character? I feel like I wrote him way angrier than he actually should be, but it was hard to do it any other way. I don't know, I'm a little iffy about this chapter as a whole.**

 **Also, in the last chapter Bilbo mentions how they were a week into their journey when its actually only been a few days. I went back and fixed that so hopefully its all good now.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER**

* * *

 _Chapter 5: Adventures in Wakefulness and Slumber_

Isla was having a hard time staying awake. Even with the movement of the pony beneath her- which was more than a little uncomfortable- she found herself nodding off on quite a few occasions. Several times she had fallen asleep and slumped forward, bumping her nose against the neck of her pony before shooting upright again. Needless to say, each time it happened was more painful than the last, and she was sure her nose would be pushed into her skull by the end of the day. To make matters even worse, everyone behind her could see every embarrassing occurrence and made no effort to conceal their amusement. Isla knew they weren't trying to be especially mean or anything, nor did she hate them for their laughter, but it didn't make her situation any less humiliating. She grumbled quietly to herself.

But Isla supposed she should count herself lucky. At least from her position towards the rear of the caravan _he_ couldn't see what was going on, thus sparing her from further scrutiny and embarrassment. She could only imagine the looks Thorin would be giving her if he could see that she could barely keep her eyes open. _No need to further deplete his opinion of me_ , she thought to herself glumly.

Isla felt that she had proven herself fine enough that morning. She had done well to stay out of anyone's way while still looking for places to lend a helping hand. Whether it was loading the ponies, grilling some sausages, or even recovering a misplaced dagger at one point, she did what she could. True, she may not have been a largely significant relief to anyone in particular, but she felt her effort was helping to get herself a little more acquainted with the dwarves. Isla had never been much of a social butterfly per se, but she had made friends easily enough in the past and had been intent on doing the same with those among the company.

So far her efforts had been fairly rewarding. She didn't feel so reserved around her companions and they in turn opened up a little more to her. They certainly felt comfortable enough to tease her, though they may have felt that way from the beginning anyway. The wizard in particular had no qualms of doing so.

And yet with all Isla's endeavors, Thorin Oakenshield remained aloof. Several times she had tried to begin a small conversation, if only to try to break the ice between them. Unfortunately any attempt was met with short, one-syllable replies before being brushed off entirely. As much as she tried not to, Isla was beginning to take it as a bit of an insult. Was he so high and mighty that he couldn't treat her with even a little courtesy? She didn't know what it would take for her to finally earn some semblance of goodwill between the two of them; she only hoped that one day she would find it.

But Isla couldn't worry about that too much at the moment because she had fallen asleep again. For now she was concentrating on rubbing away the pain in her nose and trying to ignore the chortles behind her. Unfortunately neither pursuit had proven successful, much to Isla's chagrin. Feeling defeated, her hand dropped away from her face and she sighed heavily. She didn't know what it would take for her to stay awake, but she beginning to feel desperate. Isla had done everything she could think of to try to fend off sleep, but she might as well have been trying to hold a storm at bay. It was inevitable, no matter her efforts.

She was considering climbing from her mount and walking for a stretch when Bilbo- with no abundance of proficiency- brought his pony up beside her own. She couldn't help the grin that spread over her face at the sight of him, despite her fatigue. She had wanted to talk with Bilbo since her inclusion in the quest but hadn't had the chance to amid the bustle of the morning. She had been planning on approaching him whenever they stopped next, but his current company would be a very welcome distraction. Already her spirits were lifting.

"Having a bit of trouble staying upright?" He teased and Isla laughed lightly.

"A little, yes." She admitted.

"Why not just go to sleep? You did have quite a day yesterday. No one would blame you for it." He leaned in a little, barely contained mischief dancing in his eyes. "Best to get your sleep now, anyway, without all the snoring." Isla laughed harder, stifling it with a hand to her mouth. Oh, how she had missed her and Bilbo's easy friendship. She couldn't even begin to measure how grateful she was to have him on this journey, and she knew he probably felt the same.

"No, I'll be alright, thank you, Bilbo. I don't know how I would even do that in the first place." She replied, eyeing her pony. "Besides, I wouldn't want anyone to think I'm too much of milksop so early on." Bilbo nodded knowingly.

"Yes, I know what you mean. I felt the same at the beginning. Still do"

"That reminds me, how did you first come to be with the dwarves?" Isla asked him, "I don't exactly think you sought them out yourself." Bilbo laughed humorlessly, as if looking for such chaos was something he would actually do _willingly_.

"No, definitely not. It was Gandalf, actually, who brought _them_ to _me_." Isla cast him a curious look and he continued. "According to him, I'd been 'sitting quietly for too long', and the only way to fix that was to go chasing off after a bloody dragon." Isla couldn't help but crack a smile at that.

"Do you regret joining, then?" She asked and Bilbo looked away, shrugging.

"I'll answer that when I know how to." Isla nodded. She hoped neither of them regretted their decisions in the end.

"But now _I_ have to ask; what were you doing in Bree?" Bilbo questioned and Isla's face turned contemplative. This was going to take a bit to answer, and she thought for a moment on how to word her reply.

"Well, I don't know exactly how to explain it, but the best I can say is that I had to get away for a little while. See a bit of what was out there." Bilbo's face was puzzled in an expression that said; _why would anyone want to get away from the Shire?_ Such a home-body he was. Isla turned her gaze to the road, pausing for a moment before continuing.

"Do you remember when we were kids? When we would run away during the night? We used to talk of grand adventures and faraway lands, always dreaming of the world outside the Shire." Bilbo nodded, smiling slightly. His eyes had glazed over a little, thoughts returning to the simplicity of a childhood since passed. Isla was glad he remembered.

"Even when our excursions had ceased, "She continued and Bilbo rose out of his intermission, "I never could fully let go of the fantasies behind them. Of course as I got older I knew they were all but impossible- or so I thought at the time," She added with a small, impish smile, peaking up at their surroundings, "But I knew I had to do _something_ with myself."

"All my life I have seen nothing but the green and goodness of the Shire," She continued, "And while I love Home, deep down I yearned for something more, if only for a short while."

"So you decided to go to Bree." Bilbo stated, and Isla nodded.

"I was only planning on spending a week or so there, then heading home. Not much of an adventure, I know, but it was the best I could do for myself and I was content with it. We can't all have wizards and dwarves turning up on our door step." She teased.

"No, I suppose not, but I'm beginning to think you were better suited for this adventure anyway. At least you went looking for it; Gandalf all but shoved me out my door." What a funny image that conjured and Isla laughed openly.

"But I suppose that's how it has always been," Bilbo continued, "After all; you were the one to fetch me for our nights out. Always looking for excitements and dragging me along with you."

"But you were never unwilling. You were searching just as earnestly as I was." Isla reminded him.

"Yes." He agreed eventually, eyes and mind once again returning to old childhood daydreams, "Yes, I was."

* * *

Thorin pulled on the reins, bringing his pony and the rest of the company to a halt. They had reached a small stream and he decided it would be as good a spot as any to rest the ponies and stop for a meal. It was only the afternoon but they had been riding well that day and everyone could use a short respite. He called out to the rest before bringing his pony around and dismounting, watching as the others did the same.

The morning had been smooth, but even so Thorin found himself counting heads to check all were there and accounted for, and he saw Gandalf doing the same. Thorin wasn't worried so much about his own men, but he wouldn't put it past either one of the Hobbits to get themselves lost. He finally spied them coming in at the rear, however, both looking very glad that the caravan was coming to a stop. The girl in particular appeared especially relieved.

And judging from her current appearance she had every reason to be. Heavy shadows clung beneath her eyes and she looked as if she could barely keep herself upright. Thorin felt a small stab of pity, but he quickly brushed it aside. They had made it clear to her from the beginning that this journey was to be no easy thing; she knew fully well what she was to expect and it was no worry of his if she was not comfortable. But he stopped and thought for a moment. Perhaps he shouldn't be so hard on her? From her story the night before, she had pressed hard to catch up with them with only a few short hours of rest afterwards. And though Thorin was loath to admit it, she hadn't slacked off earlier that morning either. Maybe she deserved a little sympathy after her diligence. After all, she looked absolutely exhausted.

But then again, whose fault was that if not her own? She brought herself here in the first place, and certainly hadn't laid any objections to Gandalf's plan of her continuing along. Any repercussions of that decision were hers to deal with, and Thorin would not offer any sympathy or special treatment. He watched her climb somewhat clumsily from her pony before stretching her hands above her head, a weary but nonetheless cheerful grin spreading across her face. At least she was keeping her spirits about her. Thorin turned to address the company.

"Oin, get a fire going. Have Bombur heat the stew from last night. When its finished everyone eat quickly; we'll head out again straight after. No one is to wander off." Thorin looked pointedly at the two hobbits, directing that last instruction more so to them than anyone else. Murmurs of assent spread throughout the crowd and everyone dispersed. Thorin watched the two halflings withdraw a moment before turning his focus to more important affairs.

After discussing a few matters of navigation with Balin, Thorin filled his water skin at the stream before heading over to pull the map and key from his bag. Bofur brought him a bowl just then and he settled himself down, studying the heirlooms for what must have been the thousandth time now. He held them attentively, almost reverently, and not for the first time he marveled at his fortune.

For the longest time, Thorin hadn't allowed himself to believe in even the slightest chance that Erebor could be returned to his people. It was simply too large a feat, too great a risk, and he couldn't bear to inspire any sort of hope only to have it eventually and inevitably dashed. But then, there hadn't been any sort of thing to inspire any hope in the first place.

Not until a certain benevolent wizard, who may be slightly more meddling than what was acceptable, bestowed such gifts upon Thorin did he allow himself to believe that they may actually have a chance. Despite their occasional differing views, Thorin was highly grateful to Gandalf, meddling as he may be.

Thorin cast his eyes around, watching his companions and kin. Yes, he had much to be grateful for indeed. His company may be small for facing such a formidable foe as Smaug, but he knew they were more than capable. Steadfast, with strength of arm and hearts of valor, Thorin knew he could trust them with his very life. He could not wish for a finer company to travel with, and he would not exchange any of them for anything. _Well, almost any of them_ , he thought to himself as the hobbits popped into his head.

Soon enough everyone finished and packed up, and were just about ready to leave. Thorin was readjusting his saddlebag when he caught Bilbo's voice.

"Gandalf, have you seen Isla?" Thorin stopped.

"No, I haven't. Not for a while." Thorin's eyes closed and he released a breath of frustration.

"Neither have I. In fact, I don't think she even ate." He whirled around and stalked to the wizard and the halfling.

"She is missing?" He demanded, and Bilbo looked slightly startled.

"I- um, well of course she's around here somewhere. She-"

"When did you last see her?"

"Heading off somewhere that way," He pointed into the trees, "She probably just accidentally fell asleep somewhere." He had to call out as Thorin was already storming away into the treeline, muttering angrily to himself.

"Curse these halflings, far more trouble than they're worth."

After walking a little ways he came upon a mess of dark curls peeking out from behind a tree and headed towards them.

 _By Mahal, she_ had _fallen asleep!_ Thorin found her curled up between the roots of a large tree, completely lost to the world and completely defenseless. Vaguely, and rather out of nowhere, she reminded him of some small, woodland creature. Her curls tumbled gently around her head and her mouth was slightly open, breathing softly. It took a moment for Thorin to realize he was staring for slightly longer than he should have, and he shook his head to bring himself back. His frown deepened, irritated with himself for becoming momentarily distracted, and with the girl for being the one to distract him.

"Halfling." He called sharply, and she stirred a little, face scrunching and groaning softly. Eventually her head rose and she gazed around, apparently puzzled by her surroundings.

"Wha-?" Finally her gaze settled on him and her eyes widened.

"Oh! Oh, forgive me." She sat up and brought a hand to push her hair out of her face, "I must have fallen asleep without realizing it."

"You were instructed not to wander off." He replied gruffly and her face went slightly red.

"I'm sorry. You see, I went a little ways off to- ah, 'relieve myself', and I grew dizzy walking back. I only meant to rest a short while but I fell asleep by accident. Please, forgive me." She stood, offering him an embarrassed but apologetic smile.

"Well, Halfling, you-"

"Isla." She interrupted softly and he stopped.

"What?"

"My name is Isla. I would very much prefer if you used it, please." He stared at her, dumbfounded for a moment and caught off guard by her sudden outspokenness. He shook his head again, exasperation with her soon replacing his shock. He gave her a look that would have leveled most.

"It does not matter to me what you prefer, _Ha_ _lfing._ You have managed to delay us for what I can only assume will be the first time of many." Indignation sparked within her eyes and her chin rose a little, "I will not tolerate carelessness or feeble excuses in this company, especially from one who was never meant to be a part of it to begin with." She opened her mouth, fire and fury dancing in her eyes, but she seemed to change her mind at the last minute. Eventually she looked away and simply nodded. The aggravation on her face did not go unnoticed by Thorin, but he ignored it.

"Good. Now come; we're leaving."

* * *

Isla was having a hard time feeling little more than discontent towards the dwarf king she was currently trailing after. These days it wasn't too often that she became particularly irritated, but she sensed that this may very well become a trend in the future. She had never before come in contact with one who was so vexing. Well, excluding the Sackville-Bagginses, of course.

Of course Isla recognized that she had made a mistake. She wasn't denying that nor was she making 'feeble excuses', but she also wasn't happy with how Thorin was handling the situation. Especially when he refused to even use her _name_. She had been dead set on letting him know just what she thought of their current position when it registered that doing so wouldn't actually get her anywhere. Her father would have been rather upset with her if he knew she were walking away without defending herself, but Isla knew that she was the one who was ultimately in the wrong. She wasn't angry or even surprised that Thorin was upset, she was only bothered by his treatment of her as a whole.

Isla never intended to fall asleep like she had, but if she hadn't stopped to rest she knew she would have keeled over before she made it back. She couldn't even recall drifting off, but her doing so didn't exactly come as much of a shock. She couldn't remember ever being so tired in all her life. So imagine her surprise when she woke in unfamiliar surroundings with a livid dwarf standing over her, all but seething with the sight before him. It wasn't hard to figure out why he was so upset, and Isla wanted to kick herself when she realized the mistake she had made. If getting in his good graces was a difficult task before, it was bound to be near impossible from then on.

But she had to ask herself; was it even worth it at this point? The dwarf king had made it perfectly clear that he thought very, _very_ little of her, so what was the sense of even trying to change his opinion? Did she really even care anymore? None of the other dwarves in the company seemed to have any problem with her, what did it matter if only one did?

She shook her head and glared at his retreating back. No, it did matter, as silly as it may have seemed to any other. She wanted to show him that she was worthy of respect, only to prove him so _wrong_. She was neither careless, incompetent, or unfit for this quest. It was bound to be more difficult to do from that point on but she knew she could do it, that she _would_ do it.

Soon enough they had made it back to camp and, with one final glower thrown at the back of the dwarf king's head, Isla withdrew to Bilbo's side, ignoring the snickers of her fellow companions. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something had happened between Thorin and herself and clearly everyone knew. Bilbo gave her a strange look when she stormed up to her pony, muttering angrily to herself.

"Everything alright?" He asked and Isla huffed.

"Fine." She replied curtly, "Just fine."

Bilbo chuckled a little and she glared at him.

"I know what your 'fine' means. You gave me the same answer when Otho Sackville-Baggins shoved mud down the back of your collar." Despite herself, Isla smiled a little at the memory. "Mind you, that was _before_ you clouted him in the face." She laughed openly.

"Well, he never bothered me after that so it wasn't a complete evil." She declared when her laughing spell had passed, shrugging a little.

"I just hope you didn't do the same to his majesty over there." Bilbo replied, nodding towards the dwarf king.

"Oh, Eru, no. Even I am not that foolish." Though the thought had been very tempting.

Just then, and rather unexpectedly, they were approached by a hatted and particularly smiley dwarf, carrying a small bundle.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but I don't believe you've had anythin' to eat yet, have yeh?" He asked Isla, and she stared at him a moment, wondering where this had come from.

"Uh, well- no I haven't. But-"

"Thought so. Didn't recall handin' yeh a bowl. Here, I brought this." He handed her the bundle and she unwrapped it to reveal a seed cake.

"Nicked it from my brother," He nodded towards a red-headed and very round dwarf, "Mahal knows he doesn't need it. Might help to keep you awake, eh?" He added with a mischievous smile and Isla's face scrunched in embarrassment.

She would have declined it, only her stomach thought it appropriate to be very vocal in its complaints just then. There was no way she could refuse and they both knew it, so she accepted it as graciously as she could. She was very grateful to this friendly dwarf; Isla loved seed cake.

"Thank you, Master..?" She trailed off, unable to recall his name.

"Bofur. At your service" He inclined his head a little.

"Bofur." She confirmed, "Thank you, Master Bofur."

"If you are well and truly ready, Halfling, we will depart now." A stern voice called from behind and Isla huffed.

"Yes, quite ready, Master Oakenshield, thank you." She replied without turning around. She heard him stalk off and her hands came up to rub her face, groaning in frustration.

"Chin up, lass." She heard Bofur say, and her hands dropped to reveal the dwarf's wide, toothy smile, "He might be a little rough 'round the edges, but he'll warm up to yeh eventually." He clapped her on the back before trailing away.

"Let's hope so." Bilbo said, struggling to the top of his pony.

* * *

 **Gah! I'm sorry its been so long! I've had a crap ton of stuff going on and its been hard to find time to write.**

 **First I went camping for a week, then I found out my laptop had a virus when I came back. I had to get all my documents and pictures and whatnot off then reset it, which took a few hours alone. Couple all that with preparing to move away for college next week and I'm all but choking on the stuff that's been on my plate. Hopefully this chapter makes up for that?** **I'll try hard to get another chapter out before I go, but everything is really up in the air right now so we'll see.**

 **Fun fact: there was a girl at school that would fall asleep in class all the time and her head would hit the desk with a loud thump. Of course it would wake her up and we'd all laugh, herself included. Luckily it was a fairly small class so we all knew each other well and no one made fun of her for it or anything. The teacher was pretty cool about it too. I was thinking about it a while ago when I thought, 'Hey! Lets use that in a story.'**

 **Thanks everyone for reviewing and following and all that jazz. Hope you enjoyed.**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER**

* * *

 _Chapter 6: Tales by the Fireside_

That night found the company making camp in a small clearing on a cliff side. In the hustle of setting up camp, Isla couldn't help but take a moment to stand at the edge and drink in the view. She had the strongest urge to throw her head back and scream into the wild air, but she would rather avoid drawing the attention such an action would bring to her. She turned a reluctant back to the green landscape.

Eventually Isla was tasked with gathering some fire wood, though this time she made sure not to wander too far off. She had no desire whatsoever to repeat the events from the day before, and so kept as much within earshot of the camp as possible. She had a bit of trouble getting back with the armful of wood she had gathered, but before long the clearing was warmed with the glow of a fire and their evening meal was distributed.

Isla cast Bofur a grateful smile when he passed her a bowl and he nodded in return. She certainly hadn't known this odd Dwarf long, but already she sensed a potential friend. Isla dearly hoped to be able to get to know him and the other Dwarves better. There was no denying that they were an unruly bunch, but there was something about them that she found oddly endearing. A certain dour face popped suddenly into her head then. _Well,_ she thought glumly to herself, _all but one._ Try as she might, Isla didn't think she'd ever come to consider Thorin Oakenshield as 'endearing'.

The night progressed and before Isla knew it, she was curled up in her bedroll and happily asleep. Though not for long.

Call it hyper-awareness that comes with the unease of sleeping in unfamiliar surroundings, but Isla bolted upright at the faintest sound of screams in the distance. Still completely disorientated with sleep, she fought to calm her racing heart and watched as Bilbo dashed back into the light of the fire.

"What was that?" He asked, panic clear in his voice.

"Orcs." Someone replied behind her, and Isla twisted to see the Dwarf princes with grave expressions on their faces. She had spoken briefly to the two of them earlier that day and it was strange to her to see them looking so solemn.

"Orcs?" Isla asked, unable to keep dread from ringing in her voice.

"Throat-cutters." The elder brother, Fili, continued, casting her a grim expression "There'll be dozens of them out there. The low-lands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep." Kili added, "Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood."

Isla and Bilbo looked at each other, each sharing the same terrified expression. In their horror, they failed to notice the knowing look the two brothers shared until Thorin drew them back to their attention.

"You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Thorin growled.

Isla stared at the Dwarf king, a little taken aback by how harsh he was treating his nephews. She had never seen him speak to any of the company in such a way, and especially not his closest kin. Although she couldn't say she was pleased with the joke the two had played on her and Bilbo, she couldn't help the small stab of pity upon seeing the younger Dwarves' fallen faces.

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili replied in a small voice, clearly remorseful.

"No, you didn't." Thorin snapped, "You know nothing of the world." He stalked to the edge of the cliff, and Isla wanted nothing more than to berate him as she watched him go. She had thought herself the only victim of his excessive temper up until this moment, and once again, she thought his handling of the situation excessive. Before she could say anything she regretted, however, a much kinder voice drew their attention.

"Don't mind him, laddie." The oldest Dwarf of the company had stepped up, a kindly smile on his face. Isla tried but for the life of her she couldn't remember his name. "Thorin has more reason than most to hate orcs." His voice took on a much graver tone, and Isla felt a sudden chill slither down her spine. A heavy silence seemed to come over the group.

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain," he continued, "King Thror tried to reclaim the Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had gotten there first. Moria had been taken by a legion of orcs lead by the most vile of their race: Azog, the Defiler." Isla glanced quickly around the camp and realized all the Dwarves who had previously been asleep were now awake. Some listened in rapt attention to every word that was spoken; others were looking away, seeming to be lost in the memories of those being recounted.

"The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin." A shadow seemed to pass over him then, and he paused to take a deep breath, "He began by beheading the King."

Isla gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, and she couldn't help but look to Thorin where he stood at the cliff side. His hands were clasped simply behind his back, but even from this distance she could see how tense he was.

"Thrain, Thorin's father was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know." _How horrible,_ Isla thought mournfully. _Such tragedy to experience in such a short time._ "We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us." Despite the tragedy he was relaying, a small gleam came into his eye.

"That was when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc." The very world seemed to stand still. Isla wasn't sure she was even breathing.

"He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield." At this, Isla glanced to where Thorin's belongings rested, immediately spying the rough-hewn branch among his things. _I_ _s that..?_

"Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken." He stated triumphantly, "Our forces rallied and drove the enemy back. Our enemy was defeated." His elation faded suddenly, and he bowed his head.

"But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived." He lifted his gaze then, and there seemed to be a quiet victory across his face. He looked to where Thorin stood.

"And I thought to myself then, there was one I could follow. There was one I could call King."

All cast their eyes to Thorin, still standing at the cliff side, seemingly lost in a world of his own, in memories of his own. He turned eventually and regarded them carefully, a look weighing heavy in his eyes. Isla's heart truly went out to him.

She couldn't imagine the pain he, or any of the Dwarves must have experienced at the time. First his home had been taken from his people by a raging monster, only to come face-to-face with far more grief and loss on the battlefield. It was more than enough to make anyone hard, bitter, and suddenly she didn't find his rough demeanor so surprising. Isla felt an understanding come over her then.

Perhaps she had judged the Dwarf king too harshly? Jumped too quickly to conclusions? He may not have been the mildest tempered individual she had ever met, but with everything he had experienced his demeanor certainly was't unexpected. And in the end, perhaps it was all a front? It was clear that he cared deeply for his people and would do anything for them, perhaps deep down he was not so severe as he seemed? Perhaps she need only get to know him better?

Thorin had stepped into the light of the fire, and Isla briefly caught his eye. She hoped she could convey to him how deeply she felt for the hardships he had faced without it seeming as though she was pitying him. He didn't seem the type of person who would welcome pity, from himself or anyone. A strange look came fleetingly over his face then, and he looked away when Bilbo spoke.

"But the pale orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came." Thorin replied, his tone filled with disgust, eyes hard again, "That filth died of his wounds long ago." He spoke so surely, but something about the expression on the white-haired Dwarf's face that left Isla feeling uncertain. Bilbo also noticed, and the two Hobbits looked to each other, sharing a quiet moment of uncertain fear.

"Everyone get to sleep. I'll take watch." Thorin said, sinking back next to his belongings.

Isla settled herself down into her sleeping roll, feeling a little overwhelmed at all that had been recounted. She knew she had a lot to think over.

* * *

None of them could have known of the pack watching from across the valley.

 _"Send word to the master. We have found the Dwarf-scum."_

* * *

Isla woke the next morning with a fresh, though unexpected goal in mind: she was going to befriend Thorin Oakenshield.

It was true that just a short time ago this was one of the last endeavors she had wanted to make, but after last night's revelations she was willing to put aside her animosity. Isla knew if she didn't try to resolve things now, chances were it would only get worse from there on out. They had a long way to go and she didn't want to endure the entirety of the quest with an enemy in the company. Besides that, she genuinely wanted to get to know Thorin better. Despite his rough exterior, Isla knew there had to be something more to him underneath. She had seen it in rare occasions in the way he interacted with the other Dwarves, especially with his nephews. Thorin Oakenshield may have been hardened by all the world around him, but Isla knew he couldn't be all callous- and she was determined to uncover that other side of him.

Which she would have immediately done had the weather only permitted it.

Just after everyone woke, the sky released its downpour, drenching them and their things in a matter of seconds. With everyone rushing around to pack away anything that had been spared from the rain, Isla never got the chance to approach Thorin, or to even begin to think of how she was going to do it in the first place. But any thoughts of doing so had all but slipped from her mind as the morning went on, anyway.

Isla couldn't recall any time she had been so utterly miserable. In truth, she really did not mind the rain. She quite loved it, in fact. Often as a child she would scamper through the green fields of the shire during a rainstorm, face thrown skyward and arms spread wide. Even in her older years she enjoyed the occasional frolic through spring showers when others weren't looking. Having to spend an extended period of time in it, however, was a different matter.

A sneeze caught her attention then, followed by; "You wouldn't happen to have a spare handkerchief, would you?" Isla cast Bilbo a rueful smile.

"No, sorry, Bilbo. Forgot mine as well, unfortunately." Her cousin sighed a little.

"Yes, quite unfortunate." He began to dig around in his saddlebag, "I was given _this_ as a replacement," He held up a small square of dirty cloth, a less than appreciative look on his face. "But honestly I'm a little afraid to use it."

"Ah, come now Bilbo. Where is your gratitude?" A humorous voice came from beside them and they both looked to Gandalf's amused face. Bilbo looked anything but grateful as he stuffed the rag back into his bag.

"Where indeed?" He muttered to himself.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf," Cried a voice from behind, "Can't you do something about this deluge?" Gandalf huffed a little, and a smile played at the edges of Isla's mouth.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." He replied, exasperation clear in his countenance, "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard." This seemed to intrigue Bilbo and he gave Gandalf a curious look.

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

"What?" Gandalf looked to Bilbo with a puzzled expression.

"Other wizards?" Bilbo clarified. Gandalf looked a little surprised at the question, but he answered nonetheless.

"There are five of us." Isla's eyebrows rose in astonishment; somehow she had not expected there to be so many. "The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are two Blue Wizards." He paused, "You know; I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?" Isla questioned, her curiosity overcoming her.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." A fond and humored smile came over Gandalf's face then.

"Is he a great Wizard, or is he.. more like you?" Bilbo asked, and Gandalf looked slightly offended. Isla gave Bilbo a sharp look, but Gandalf continued before Isla could say anything to her cousin.

"I think he is very a great Wizard," He seemed to consider that statement for a moment, "In his own way." He amended.

"He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others." Gandalf continued, "He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world." His face turned contemplative for a moment before seeming to snap quickly out of it.

"But enough of that." He rounded suddenly on Isla, "I haven't yet had the chance to speak to our new Hobbit." He cried jovially. "And how are you, my dear?"

Well that was a loaded question if she had ever heard one. But before Isla could answer, Gandalf quickly added:

"I do hope you will forgive my hand in your addition to this company. But if I am correct, it wasn't entirely unwelcome?" Isla smiled a little shyly.

"No, you're right it wasn't _entirely_ unwelcome. And I'm doing fine, I suppose." He hummed thoughtfully at her answer.

"I understand you have had a bit of trouble with a certain member of the company." He pinned her with a knowing look, and Isla shrugged a little.

"Well, in his defense, I did sort of knock him unconscious the first night we met. I would have been surprised if he wasn't at least a little hostile." Her face turned a little sour then, and she dropped her voice, not really wanting any of the Dwarves to hear her, "Though I'd hoped we would have moved past that by now. If anything, he seems to look for any excuse to prove that I shouldn't be here, and don't think I haven't noticed the same attitude towards Bilbo." Isla stopped herself before she grew too angry.

"But after hearing everything last night, I've decided to make an effort not to feel so bitter towards him. I can't say I necessarily condone his actions, but I am trying to understand him a little more. I figured, he can't be all bad, can he?" The Wizard nodded.

"Thorin Oakenshield has his shortcomings, as do we all, but you are right; he does have his admirable qualities. I must say I commend you on your maturity, Miss Brandybuck. It is no easy thing to put aside one's grievance for another, especially in light of Thorin's narrow mindedness towards you. " Isla smiled at the kindly wizard, but the expression soon faded.

"Well, who's to say he is wrong about me?" Isla gave a self-depreciating little shrug, doubt seeping suddenly like ice into her chest, "I don't know what I can really offer that will be of any help to this company. Besides being the 'spare Hobbit', I mean." Gandalf frowned.

"My dear, one keeps a spare pair of socks, _not_ a spare Hobbit. You are more than a precaution in the event of some grand _disaster._ " He teased, glancing mischievously at Bilbo who looked none too happy for it. The wizard laughed before continuing, "You are an essential member of this company, as are we all, or you would not be here. Do not doubt your role in the fate of this quest, for fate certainly does not doubt you. Do you think you would have stumbled upon our camp if you were not supposed to be there? Do you believe I would have insisted on your addition to this quest if I truly did not believe you were meant to be a part of it?" Isla's eyebrows drew together. _Well, when he put it like that.._

"I have never once doubted the strength of Hobbits, even if others seem to do so." Gandalf pinned both Hobbits with stern look, "And if this world has taught me anything, it's that even the smallest person can change the course of the future _._ In time, you will come to understand this, just as will Thorin Oakenshield."

* * *

Isla's talk with Gandalf had really given her a lot to think about, but honestly that wasn't anything new. It seemed that was all she had been doing lately; thinking things over, running things through her mind. Although she didn't think her feelings of self-doubt would ever truly fade, Gandalf had helped to quiet some of the more pessimistic voices in her head. Perhaps it was a little naive to so readily accept everything that he had said about her, but he had to know what he was talking about, didn't he? Isla decided that, no matter what happened, she would trust his judgement and have faith in the faith he had in her.

The day dragged on, and eventually the rain began to wane before fading out completely. Unfortunately the water in their clothes wouldn't dry for some time. Isla only hoped no one would get sick.

That evening they came upon a sort of desolate farmhouse, and Thorin announced they would make camp there. As grateful as she was to conclude their traveling for the day, there was something about the place that didn't sit well with Isla. She moved away from the others and came to stand beneath the derelict building. It seemed too grim, as though some great tragedy had occurred there. She would have much preferred to move on to someplace else, even if it meant traveling for another hour or so. Gandalf came to stand beside her, and they both regarded the house for a moment.

"A farmer and his family used to live here." He said a moment later. Isla looked up at him but he didn't elaborate any further. By the look on his face, he seemed to share Isla's thinking, and he strode out from under the home's remains.

"I think it would be wiser to move on." He said, a hint of urgency creeping into his tone. He addressed Thorin, "We could make for the Hidden Valley." The look that came across Thorin's face at Gandalf's suggestion didn't escape Isla's notice.

"I have told you already, I will not go near that place." He spat. Isla didn't know what the Hidden Valley was (though it did sound familiar), but she couldn't help but wonder what it was for Thorin to be so opposed to it.

"Why not?" Gandalf snapped, following after Thorin when he began to walk away, "The Elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice." Isla's eyes widened, ears perking up at the mention of Elves. She had never met an elf before, though she was in no way opposed to doing so. She had heard of the ethereal creatures in story only.

"I do not need their advice." Thorin retorted.

Isla's face fell a little, and she moved to her pony to begin unpacking. She didn't want to look too suspicious of listening to their conversation by standing around and doing nothing. Not that most of the company couldn't already hear their altercation at this point anyway.

"We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us." Thorin's expression darkened even more.

"Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves. Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and father."

"You are neither of them," Gandalf replied, tone stern, "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

"I did not know they were yours to keep." Thorin spat in return. Gandalf looked at him in what Isla could only describe as disgust before storming away.

"Gandalf?" Isla called, but he either didn't hear or was simply ignoring her.

"Everything alright?" Bilbo asked a little worriedly, "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense."

"Who's that?" Bilbo asked, puzzled.

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" Gandalf retorted sharply, "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day." With that he disappeared from the camp among the greenery of the landscape. There seemed to be an air of awkwardness that hung over the company at the wizard's outburst, and everyone gazed at each other a little stunned. The only who seemed relatively unaffected was Thorin, and he soon snapped everyone out of their daze.

"Come on, Bombur, we're hungry." Activity picked up again, and Isla tried to weigh the Dwarf king's reaction to Gandalf's stalking off. She hadn't realized she was staring at Thorin until he caught her eye, giving her a stormy look. She quickly averted her gaze and slid away. Isla thought she could still feel his stare on her retreating back as she came to stand beside her cousin.

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asked Balin (whose name she finally learned). The elder Dwarf gave him a look that told he wasn't sure. Bilbo let the subject drop and trudged away.

"Balin, what is the Hidden Valley?" Isla asked a moment later, "Gandalf said something about going there for help and advice. The name sounds vaguely familiar, though I can't recall where from." A look of understanding came over Balin's face then.

"So that is the reason for the altercation, eh? I imagine Thorin was not overly fond of this suggestion?" Isla shook her head and Balin continued.

"The Hidden Valley is the name of the location of Rivendell, home of Lord Elrond." Isla's face lit up in recognition. There were very few who did not now know of Rivendell, and once again Isla disappointed that they would not be traveling there. She had heard great stories of the place growing up. Very few were lucky enough to visit the great and famous settlement and she would have loved to be counted amongst those fortunate few. Tales told of the beauty and hospitality of the city.

"Thorin seemed very upset at the prospect of going to Rivendell," Isla continued, "He spoke of a betrayal on part of the Elves. Something about his grandfather? I don't mean to pry, but what did he mean by this? Why does he hate the Elves so?" Balin paused, seeming to try to find the right words and Isla wanted to kick herself. She knew she was treading into fragile territory, but she couldn't help herself. She had a bad habit of speaking without thinking. That habit seemed now to be rearing its ugly head.

"There is a bitterness between Dwarf and Elven-kind here, lass, that cannot be surmised in a few simple words," He said at last, "Suffice to say that Thorin, as do many Dwarves, holds a resentment against the Elves for what he feels was a far too passive role in our people's suffering. I cannot say that I know fully the reasoning behind the Elves' absence in our time of need, nor am I entirely forgiving of that absence, but you need not worry too much about it, miss. It is in the past. Do not let our people's ill will cloud your opinion of Elvish kind. They are not all terrible as we Dwarves may believe." He smile kindly then, but Isla still felt bad.

"I'm sorry for asking, it wasn't any business of mine. Sometimes I don't know when to hold my tongue." She gave a guilty smile, feeling sheepish.

"It's quite alright, lassie. No harm done." He patted her hand in a very paternal way, and Isla was reminded very suddenly of her grandfather. "Best get a move on then. Much to be done for the evening." Isla nodded and they both went off their separate ways to help around camp.

As a child, Isla had been very close to her grandfather from her mother's side; Gerontius "The Old" Took. A wise and warmhearted Hobbit, he was a great reason why such an adventurous spirit had cultivated within Isla. He had been a large supplier of the stories that Isla grew up on and grew to love so much. He had died just before Isla's adolescent years, and she felt the loss of him from her life very deeply. Gerontius had been one of the few who looked upon her and Bilbo's exploits with a mischievously approving eye. 'Let the girl have her adventures' he'd say, his weathered face shining out from the cloud of his white, woolly hair. Yes, there were many aspects of Balin that reminded her greatly of her grandfather. The Dwarf's kindness and the resemblance to her beloved kin warmed her heart, and Isla was immensely happy to be getting to know the Dwarf better. She found her spirits greatly lifted.

Night was falling fast and Isla figured she had better find some way to help out. She set to work taking care of a few chores around camp, all the while her thoughts finally returning to her original commitment of befriending Thorin. The idea had all but fled from her head with the events of the day, and she attacked it now with tenacity. She knew she wanted to at least try something tonight, talk to him somehow. The problem was she didn't know what to say or how to strike up a conversation.

From the fire, Bofur called for everyone to come get their evening meal, and Isla put her thoughts on hold for the moment being, eager to get some food. She was a Hobbit after all. When she stepped up to receive her portion, she noticed Bilbo staring off into the hills.

"He's been a long time." He said, his back still to them.

"Who?" Isla asked.

"Gandalf." Bilbo replied, coming to stand beside Bofur and Isla at the fire.

"He's a wizard!" Bofur exclaimed, completely unfazed as he dished up the stew, "He does as he chooses. Here, do us a favor; take these to the lads." He passed Bilbo two bowls of soup, and after casting Bofur a look, Bilbo headed towards a thicket of trees. Isla watched as he left, absentmindedly listening to Bofur fend off his brother from helping himself to another portion of stew. When she had received her meal, Isla settled happily down near the warmth of the fire and polished off the hearty meal. Bombur really was an excellent cook, though by the girth of his middle this was hardly to be expected. Isla smiled to herself. When she was finished, she cast a quick eye around and spotted Thorin a little ways away from everyone, studiously bent over the map he had spread over a tree stump. An idea came suddenly into her head then.

"Has Thorin eaten yet?" She asked Bofur and he shook his head.

"Would it be alright if I brought him his meal?" Bofur looked a little confused at her request, but he shrugged and dished up a bowl anyway. Isla thanked him when he passed it over, and with that, she took a deep breath and approached the Dwarf king.

"Excuse me, Thorin?" She called softly, smiling in what she hoped was a friendly manner when he lifted his head, "I have your dinner." She said, gesturing to the bowl in her hand. He seemed a little taken aback that she was there, but he accepted the offering nonetheless.

"Thank you." He said politely enough, nodding to her, though there was an element of suspicion in his eyes. Isla replied with a pleasant 'you're welcome' but didn't move away, and the pair slipped into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. It was clear he didn't know why she was still there and Isla clamored for something to say to him.

"Is there-" He began, but the words were coming out of her mouth and there was no stopping them now.

"I just wanted to say that I believe from the beginning we have gotten off on the wrong foot and I wanted to try to fix that. I know you're not overly fond of me and for a while the feeling was entirely mutual but I also know that I don't know you very well and you don't know me very well and I think it would be wrong for each of us to jump to conclusions about the other based on a handful of misunderstandings and ill encounters." By Eru, Isla needed to slow herself down. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"What I'm trying to say is that I wanted to start over." Isla said finally, looking at him hopefully. Thorin's face betrayed his bewilderment, looking at a complete loss for words. _He must think I'm mad_ , Isla thought to herself, but she wouldn't let that dampen her optimism. At least he didn't look particularly against her peace offering.

Isla brought a hand forward, "Please?"

The Dwarf king eyed the proffered limb with the same bewilderment before his eyes flicked to her face. Eventually- thankfully- something within him seemed to give and he nodded to her almost imperceptibly. He began to reach forward, but just before he took her hand, something came crashing through the trees.

"Uncle!" Fili cried, followed closely by his brother. Alarmed, Isla jumped back and Thorin brushed passed her. The brothers came to a skidding halt before them.

"What happened?" Thorin demanded.

"Trolls. They have Bilbo." Kili supplied, and Isla's heart dropped into her stomach.

Thorin brought a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose before jumping into action. He stalked off and wrenched his sword from where it rested against a tree, barking orders to the company to take arms. The stormy look on his face did not go unnoticed by Isla, and suddenly Trolls didn't seem to be Bilbo's only problem.

* * *

 **Holy crap it's been a while. It's been like, what, six months? Seven? Sorry about that everyone, but hopefully this slightly longer chapter makes up for my lack of activity. I'll try not to go on such a long hiatus again.**

 **This chapter borrowed a lot of dialogue from the movie which I don't want to do too often, but I think the chapter turned out okay. I hope? Anyway, I'll try not to avoid that in the future when I can and hopefully write some more stuff of my own. We'll see what happens.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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